Vyacheslav Ivanov
Red Autumn

Red autumn
Rushes the faded leaves:
«Begone, fly away
To the shadows of Hades,
Forever bewailing
The short life!
Begone, fly away
From the pastures, awaiting
A new spring!»

The night descends,
And from the black sky
The inscrutable stare
Of the eternal stars
Upon the pastures of death.

Blessed is he whose wings
The majestic spirit
Lifts from the deathly pastures
By the power of will
To the flaming spheres!
The chosen one sits
On an ageless throne —
And with the spirits
Of the firmament,
In the motionless glow,
Reigning, flows,
Through the waves of eons,
Around the island of wishes,
Hopes and separations,
And instantaneous life.

Translated by Edmund Grinbaldt